


The legend of Mittens

by Lunik



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Crack, Crazy cat lady Loki, Gen, Loki Does What He Wants
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-07
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 18:02:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunik/pseuds/Lunik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of how an abandoned kitten in an alleyway derailed an impending alien invasion and changed the course of the Midgard-Chitauri war. And looked damn cute doing it.</p><p>Also, the story of Nick Fury's Worst Headache Ever (tm).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How Mittens Saved The Universe

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a [prompt on Norsekink](http://norsekink.livejournal.com/10823.html?thread=22918727#t23690823) which asked for an AU in which Loki's compassion was tied in to his magic. Wherein Loki was incapable of feeling connection to another living thing because he had never met anyone as intrinsically magical as himself. Aesir _learn_ magic, they aren't magic themselves. Completely isolated in Asgard, Loki goes crazy and the rest is history.
> 
> Until he arrives on earth and finds a species there that has inborn magic of its own.
> 
> So, yes, this is unapologetic crack.

It started with a high frightened mewing from a box in the corner of their new lair. Stray cat, probably a kitten by the sound of the thing. Clint shouldered the case he was carrying and crossed over to kick the cardboard box open. The little calico ball of fluff mewed at him again, piteously, and he dropped to one knee.

Knowing his new master, he could see the words _kill the vermin_ coming his way soon. He sighed. The things he did for enlightenment.

"Barton?" Loki called. "What's that?"

"Just a stray, sir. You want I should get rid of it?"

His master appeared at his shoulder with that slightly unhinged smile that Clint was really trying to get used to. "A stray what?" he asked, peering into the box. Clint heard the intake of breath.

Clint knew he was being mind controlled. The best thing about mind control was the not caring about being mind controlled. He didn't understand the power of the sceptre, though. Hadn't been aware it carried emotion from his master straight into his hind brain. Probably because Loki hadn't _had_ any emotions up until that moment. The white-and-orange kitten looked up and let out a wailing meow. Loki's eyes went wide. And Clint was plunged into a sea of emotion, breaking like a tidal wave.

He struggled to keep afloat in it, to keep hold of what was him and what was Loki. Clint was a human with a physical body, standing in a cold alleyway, and he had just grunted in surprise. Loki was the elemental knowledge that at last everything was going to be all right. Everything was _going to be all right_. Nobody was alone, no reason to be scared or unhappy.

Clint could not shake the feeling that this random cat was the first creature Loki had ever set eyes upon that he truly believed was alive. That explained a few things about his sceptre-happy overlord.

Loki had dropped to his knees when Clint wasn't looking, and thrown the sceptre carelessly to one side. "Oh, what _are_ you?" he breathed in wonder. "Do you speak, little one?"

The kitten mewed again at the top of its voice, and Loki immediately lifted it into his lap. Clint set his case down next to his feet. It was heavy. "That's a cat, sir," he supplied. "They don't speak. People keep them as pets."

"...should keep them as _gods_..." Loki muttered. The kitten yowled under his petting and he gasped. "She's hurt!" Clint braced himself against the wave of horror from the sceptre's power. It was easier when he was expecting it. "Her little leg... How could this have happened?"

Clint took a moment to note how the surreal experience of watching his alien master clutch an injured kitten to his chest in distress didn't really faze him. Mind control was a hell of a drug. Loki bounced the little animal like a baby.

"Shh, sh, shhh..." he calmed her. "Barton, what's her name?"

"Her na...?" Clint thought it would probably be a bad idea to explain to him that kittens left in alleyways to die didn't really get names. The cat had three white feet. "Mittens. Her name's probably Mittens."

"Mittens," Loki repeated, smoothing fingers over her bloodied leg.

"You know, she was probably abandoned here." Oh, right. Clint had forgotten that he didn't keep information from Loki. Not even when it made his face look like _that_ and the psychic backlash was like a physical blow.

"Abandoned?" Tears, actual tears sprang up in his eyes. "Mittens, no! Barton, your realm is brutish and savage." Mittens let out a tiny squeak, her face pressed to Loki's shoulder. "Did nobody want you, my love?" Loki muttered. "How?"

Clint sat on the case he'd set down. It probably didn't contain explosives, and he would be here a while.

Loki scratched despondently behind Mittens' ears, and threw thoughtful looks at the tent where the Tesseract was being kept. He looked at Mittens, dewy eyed. Back at the Tesseract tent. Back at the kitten.

"...Barton?" he asked at length.

"Sir?"

"Do you have any handcuffs?"

Clint did not. "I can get some."

"Do so."

His master was pretty absorbed in stroking his kitten's fur. Clint dropped the case he'd been lugging off in the tent, then went in search of a sex shop. Probably the easiest place to get hold of handcuffs without questions.

When he returned with the sturdiest pair he could find (guaranteed to take the full weight of a small man if suspension was your thing), the Tesseract tent had been dismantled and the Tesseract was sitting unassumingly in its case. Nobody was around, and Loki was sitting cross legged in the middle of the floor playing with Mittens. Her leg seemed to be completely healed, and she was purring as she hunted Loki's hand, loud enough for Clint to hear her across the room.

He cleared his throat to get Loki's attention.

"Ah, Agent Barton," Loki said without looking away from the kitten. "Go and have a look at that piping over there. Is it stable?" He gestured with a tilt of his chin, still trailing his fingers along the dusty floor for Mittens to pounce on. Clint put both hands on the piping, pulling with all his weight. It didn't budge an inch.

"It's pretty strong, sir."

"Wonderful. Handcuff yourself to it, sitting down, hands behind your back."

"Okay."

When he was handcuffed, Loki came over to check his bonds. Mittens sat on his shoulder, and he moved carefully as he knelt behind Clint. "Can you escape from this?" he asked.

Clint nodded. "There's a lock pick sewn into the back of my pants. I can get it loose in about a minute."

Loki nodded, and his fingers searched out the little metal pick. He threw it across the room, and Clint rolled his shoulders.

"That's it. I'm stuck here. The key is right there by my boot."

"Good. I'll leave that there." Loki dragged the key back until Clint signalled _okay_ , it was out of his reach. He set Mittens down and grabbed the sceptre. The sharp tip of it dug in to Clint's chest. "Open your heart for me a moment, Agent..."

Clarity flooded into him like an ice pane being broken. He pitched against the cuffs and gasped. "Loki!" he shouted, not knowing what else to say. "Loki! You son of a bitch, surrender the Tesser-"

He looked up for half a second into Loki's mad bright eyes, and that smile, before the business end of the sceptre swung around to meet his left temple.

\---

Tasha and Captain America found him a few hours later, just regaining consciousness. They'd broken out _Captain America_ for this. Clint was almost sorry it was over so quickly. Maybe the Cap could help track down their AWOL alien, though Clint thought it would only be as hard as checking out every cat shelter in the city.

"So, it was just there next to you when you woke up?" Director Fury had both hands on the clasps of the Tesseract's case. They'd had Stark and Doctor Banner check it out - and it was a hell of a thing that they had brought Banner out of hiding only for a false emergency too - but they couldn't detect any kind of trap. Selvig, who had passed every test Clint had gone through to prove he wasn't mid controlled either, had confirmed their findings.

"Yessir," Clint said. "And the note."

"Yes," said Fury in a hollow voice. "The note."

"That's what I said, sir. The note." Fury sank into a seat and rubbed a hand over his face. "Are you all right, sir?"

"Yes," Fury gritted out. "That'll be all, Agent. I'll... I'll figure something to do."

"Yes sir. Thank you sir." Clint stood and crossed to the door. He paused, because he sometimes had terrible impulse control, and it was written up in every psyche evaluation he had. Terrible decisions outside of combat. "So, sir, are you thinking of adopting--?"

"Get out!"

\---

_Dear SHIELD. Sorry about your compound. Here's the Tesseract and your people back, I'm sure you'll find some use for them. This is my declaration of cessation of hostilities between us. I hope you'll accept._

_If you don't, I can still destroy you without too much trouble._

_~Loki, of Asgard._

_P.S. I had an army of space aliens. They have space ships, and a brand new grudge. You'll want to make some preparations, though it may take them a few years to get here without my assistance._

_P.P.S. Can I persuade any of you to adopt a homeless cat? I have several here, all in need of a good home. Just call me if you want to set anything up, I'll hear my name._


	2. Loki, Cat-King of Midgard

_Just call me if you want to set anything up, I'll hear my name._

That was too good an offer to pass up. _I'll hear my name._ Mythic, and magic, and a blatant challenge to try it. Fury had forbidden anyone on board the Helicarrier to say "Loki" aloud.

He wasn't surprised when, before a week went by, cats started turning up on board. He wasn't even surprised when one of the first new pet owners turned out to be agent Romanoff. A little betrayed, but her cat was among the least mangy ones so there was that. Ruslan was a mostly healthy sleek black animal, and well trained if a little uppity. At least Fury knew she could talk the best out of Loki.

Couldn't talk everything out of him though. Nick didn't know what the cat-crazy bastard had said to her, but when asked she swore the decision to get a cat had been on her mind for months. And then produced documentation that proved she had bought him from a pet store in Atwerp. Before Nick had asked her for any such thing. So it was safe to say that, whatever their conversation had involved, it hadn't yielded any new intel about the Chitauri.

Nick's fingers tightened on Barton's report. They were alien. They were hundreds, probably thousands, maybe more. They had Loki scared like a little kid. And they were coming. He lifted his eye patch to rub wearily at the empty socket. Apparently, though, they didn't have Loki scared enough that he would stop playing with his cats.

Even the arrival of SHIELD's second alien nuisance hadn't brought the cat king out of hiding. Thor (also of Asgard) had sat in his custodial apartment for two days saying Loki's name over and over before Natasha had convinced him it wasn't going to work and he should come to at least one debriefing. But though Thor had brought them a cornucopia of new information about the Tesseract (and Nick was grateful not to have to call it the Cosmic Cube anymore, because it was no longer the forties) he seemed to know even less than Clint about Loki's alien army.

Which was why Nick had finally reached a level of desperation he'd hoped to avoid. He stood in his office after hours, and set an audio recorder working in the corner. Hands behind his back, he straightened and took a slow breath.

"Loki," he said, out loud. "I'm thinking of adopting a cat."

He'd expected flashing lights and smoke like last time Loki had arrived by magic in a restricted area. But even afterwards, looking back, the only thing he could claim to have felt was a sort of greasiness to the air. And then there was a voice behind him.

"Director! I'm so pleased to hear it!"

Nick turned slowly. Loki was sitting cross legged on his desk with a smile that was, if possible, even madder than the last time they'd met.

He looked healthier this time, less like a man in a fever burn. The dark circles were gone -- and so was the thirty pounds of leather. He was still wearing the same pants but the buckles and the long coat were gone replaced with a long sleeved green t shirt in thin cotton and over it a loose knit purple sweater that looked like it had been clawed half to death by kittens.

Of course it had been clawed half to death by kittens.

He had his hair in a messy braid over one shoulder, but what should have made him look like a six year old girl came off with a kind of wild elegance. Overall, he was making _crazy cat lady_ look good.

"I know just who to pair you up with!" he announced. In his lap was an extremely gnarly looking cat. "Now, I know Agent Romanoff and a few others wanted to name their new friends themselves, but I'm sorry Director - This fine gentleman is Ozymandias, and will have no other name."

Nick tried not to raise an eyebrow. It wouldn't help to offend the teleporting alien. Ozymandias had one ear, and no fur on either of his front legs. What fur he did have was matted and grey-black striped. Probably. Under the dirt. And as Loki held him up for inspection, Nick couldn't help but notice-- Was that a--

"A cape?" he asked, pained. Loki grinned.

"Doesn't he look elegant?"

In five minutes, Nick was going to be the as-proud-as-he-could-pretend-to-be-while-Loki-was-looking owner of a cat who wore human clothes. Gods help him.

"Does... Does your cat have a cape?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Loki said. "Mittens looks terrible in a cape."

Right on cue, there was a tiny mewling from beside Nick's ankle. The kitten that had prevented an invasion of Earth was now a cat, and sniffing suspiciously at Nick's shoes. No cape, not even a collar. He resisted the urge to kick her away. No room here to hate cats. "There, see?" said Loki. "Picture a cape on that. Unbearably silly."

Apparently Mittens deemed Nick's shoe unfit to piss on because she wandered off to jump on top of one of the cabinets and prowl around the shadows near the ceiling. Loki watched her fondly.

"Of course," said Nick flatly. "How foolish of me."

Loki grinned. "Ozzie has the bone structure for it." He set the beast down on the desk and with a liquid motion slipped off to crouch at eye height. Ozymandias got tickles under the chin, and Loki got a goofy look on his face as he grinned at his cat. Nick cleared his throat.

"So, Loki, while I have you here..."

"You have some questions about how to care for him?" Loki asked over his shoulder. "About the..." he whispered, "B-A-T-H-ing issue?"

Nick did not groan at the thought. "That too," he said delicately, "But first we need to talk about the Chitauri."

Loki blinked. "Why? They're terrible at animal husbandry." He tilted his head. "Husbandry? Animal care... raising animals...?"

" _Loki._ "

Loki snapped into focus at the growl in Nick's voice, turning slowly to narrow eyes at him. He seemed catlike himself, tense like he could pounce in a moment. There was a soft feline growl from somewhere up in the shadows. Loki held up a hand. "No-no, love. He's right. I did lead a swarm of murderous bastards to his planet and then leave them unattended." He rolled to the balls of his feet and stood smoothly. "And _what_ ," he asked, "did you hope to ask me, Director?"

A little white-and-orange ghost appeared on his left, melting out of his blind spot. Nick determinedly did not shiver. The growl had come from halfway across the room. Cats weren't supposed to be smart enough to identify a man's blind spot, and Nick did not want to deal with the idea that cats could be witches. He was dealing with an alien in hipster knitwear and his pet. Nothing more.

He cleared his throat. "An ETA would be a start." Loki's brow creased in confusion. "Estimated time of arrival. _A couple of years_ doesn't have the specificity we like."

"Oh, that." Loki grimaced. "Well, how should I know? It took me less than a second to get here, but I rather closed that door behind me. They'll have to find other ways, probably sail the whole way in their little ships."

"Then what can you tell me about the ships?"

Loki sketched an elaborate shrug, all bony shoulders. "They have very dirty corridors? Oh, here - you have to see this, watch: Ozzie? Do that thing you do, show Nicholas the thing."

Nick raised one eyebrow. Ozymandias, if he could, would have done the same. He looked up at Loki with a look that was blank even for a cat. "Come on, Ozzie! Do your thing."

Ozzie did not do his thing. Nick crossed over to stand opposite Loki, back in his eyeline. "Then maybe you can tell me something about the Chitauri," he said firmly.

Loki didn't look up from where he was coaxing Ozzie. "What, that they have dirty corridors too?" he asked idly.

"What do they want from us?" Nick asked with as much patience as he could. "Is it just the Tesseract?"

"Maybe." Loki shrugged. He stepped away, finally seeming to notice his surroundings. "The Tesseract and revenge, more likely. They told me if I betrayed them I would wish for something so sweet as pain, and I suppose if they find the human race harbouring me then you will all share in my fate."

He said it matter-of-factly, but Mittens picked that moment to leap out of the shadows and land on his shoulder with a comforting brush of her cheek all along Loki's. Loki accepted it with a pleased smile, and she jumped back up on top of the cabinets. He fixed Nick with a canny look. "If you're thinking to gain favour by turning me over when they arrive, don't trouble yourself. There is at least one among their number who will want nothing more from this invasion than the death of everything living. Thanos won't stop until you're all dead, his gift to his lady. Which," he shrugged, "numerically speaking, and logically speaking makes little sense. Death takes us all anyway. It's not like this increases her yield."

He whirled back to the desk, where Ozzie was licking himself. "Now. I can tell you're not enamoured of the cape. If that's a deal breaker just let me know! It's not Ozzie's favourite thing in the world, though he does like it..."

"Loki," Nick rasped through a dry throat. "Tell me about Thanos. How can I stop him?"

Loki sighed. "You know, Nicholas, I'm beginning to feel like you have no desire to adopt this cat at all."

"No, no," said Nick swiftly. "I am- I'm all about that cat." Loki grinned and Nick cursed himself inwardly.

"Wonderful." Out of nowhere, Loki produced a hemp bag. "Here's food for a fortnight, medicine - he's caught a little bacterial infection, that's the reason for the scabs and the... the smell, but that'll clear right up - toys, this one's his favourite..." He held up a well-chewed plush mouse which squeaked tiredly when he shook it. "A list of numbers too, vets local to your Helicarrier's most common ports, and of course my cell just in case--"

Nick reached for the bag. That, at least, was useful. Loki was left holding Ozzie's mouse, which he threw to the cat. Ozzie leapt off the desk after it, made a sound that was probably as excited as he ever got, and rolled onto his back to kick frantically at the thing. At the squeaking, Mittens came over to the cabinet above Ozzie's head and leaned over preparing to pounce. Loki made an absent clicking noise with his tongue and shooed Mittens away. She went grudgingly, but with grace.

Nick memorised the number, and memorised it again for good measure.

"Oh!" said Loki, snapping his fingers. "I want to leave one of these with you as well, maybe you can raise the..." he dug in his pocket, halfway up to his elbow in what had looked like a two-inch-deep vanity pocket. "Here."

He held up a pamphlet. "Save the Amur Leopards," Nick read aloud.

"There's only twenty known to exist in the wild," Loki said. "Well. Between nineteen and twenty six. Here, Mittens, you give that to him."

He handed the pamphlet to his devil-cat who had appeared soundlessly at his hip, and she took it delicately between her teeth. She padded across Nick's desk to present him the paper. Nick took it and pushed it to one side. Then drew a breath. Now or never. As Mittens turned away to continue her office exploration, he reached out and ran two fingers down under her chin. As well as he knew how, he petted the crazy alien sorcerer's familiar.

"Twenty left at the last census, see, which was several years..." Loki's educational speech trailed off into nothing the moment Mittens was touched, and he narrowed his eyes.

Nick offered Mittens the palm of his hand. There was a moment, of the kind of silence that was too silent to be real, where both men waited. Then Mittens gave a little mew and thrust her head against Nick's hand for more scratches.

The change in Loki was instantaneous. His face broke into the widest grin Nick had ever seen, and the only genuine smile he'd seen from an alien yet. He let out the breath he'd been holding and ruffled the cat's fur. Mittens began to purr. 

"Aw, she likes you, Director!" beamed Loki, while Mittens tried to push her entire face inside Nick's sleeve. Where he'd hastily shoved the rest of the catnip after smearing it in his palm.

Well, whatever it took.

"So, this is the report our Agent Barton brought you about the Chitauri?" Loki picked it up and sat on the edge of Nick's desk.

"It is," said Nick. Mittens rolled over onto her back and Nick obediently rubbed her belly. "As you can see, it's pretty sparse."

Loki laughed, flipping the single page over to look at the blank underside. "That it is. Well, I don't like to be asked questions while I'm working, Barton can't really be blamed." His feet kicked at the floor. "But, I suppose, since SHIELD is responsible for the majority of re-homed cats..."

The door handle hit the wall with an audible crack, and both cats looked up with a synchronised yowl. "Brother!" boomed Thor excitedly. Loki flinched with his entire body. "I knew that it was you, I knew it!"

"Yes, Thor," Loki said flatly. "We're all very impressed." Mittens and Ozymandias stared at the door with faint disapproving growls.

Nick thought he might join them "For fuck's-- Who let him out of containment?"

"Sorry sir! I'm sorr-- he just went right by me!" Agent Hill landed against the door frame like she'd arrived at high speed. Loki smiled brightly.

"Maria!" he said in a delighted voice. "Hello again. How's Alfie?"

Nick winced. Not Hill too. She smiled back. "He's doing great! Much better actually - I've put him on that anti-bac food you recommended."

"Brother," Thor interrupted. "We thought you dead!"

"That's nice, Thor," said Loki absently. Mittens' hackles were up, and she began to hiss until Nick ran a calming thumb down the back of her head. Better to stop that before it started. "Are you sure I can't change your mind about opening your home?" Loki was asking. "Alfie is quite old, and it would probably do him good to have someone younger around...?"

"Oh, I couldn't." Maria actually took a step back, then tried to pretend like she hadn't. "I've got my hands full with just the one cat."

"Would it help if you didn't have to babysit a Norse god at work?"

"Um."

Loki turned immediately to Thor, who was looking despondent. "Brother! How it _warms_ my heart to see you. Did you come here for the Tesseract? You didn't give it to him, did you?" he said aside to Nick. Nick barely opened his mouth and Loki didn't wait for him. "Good. I did send it back to you hoping you'd guard it jealously."

He smiled brightly at Thor and leaned closer to Nick to pet Mittens. "No, you don't want to give it to _him_ that would be too boring. All he would do with it is take it back to its rightful place in Odin's treasure vault, removing the ever pervasive temptation to use it to do terrible things to one another that you know will follow that thing wherever it goes. And, you know, head off the threat of intergalactic conflict that must be looming quite large by now. Boring, am I right?"

Nick blinked. Heavy handed. But it was working. Truth was, if it came to trading the Tesseract for information on the Chitauri, he would make that deal. Maybe that was the whole point, he thought, and forcibly dismissed that.

"So, you really thought I was dead, Thor?" Loki asked suddenly, lifting Mittens into his lap. "Oh, Brother, that must have been terrible. Do you know what you need? A cat. Perfect replacement for a brother, everyone says so! Wait right here, I know just the one..."

He shoved Mittens into his brother's arms and promptly vanished. Thor gasped aloud and held the cat at arm's length, looking around like Loki might have teleported to just behind him. Mittens made a disgruntled sound.

"He'll be back," Nick said. There was no way Loki was leaving his own cat behind.

"Can you be su--?" Thor asked, juggling the armful of fur. Before he could finish the sentence, Mittens struggled around and clawed him deeply across the hand. There was blood. Thor grunted and dropped her. Nick had one, horrendous, heart-hammering moment to wonder what crazy alien sorcerers did to people who lost their familiars as Maria stooped to catch the white-and-orange streak. She lifted Mittens up into her arms and Nick started breathing again.

Thor hugged both arms around his middle. "He looks so different," he said softly. Maria bit her lip.

Then Loki was back, carrying the most hugely fat ginger tabby Nick had ever seen. "Here!" he announced joyfully. "Here is your new cat, Thor!"

If Nick hadn't been watching as carefully as he was, he wouldn't even have noticed the spark of panic in Loki's eyes at finding Thor's arms empty, hastily buried when he saw Mittens cuddled against Maria instead. Loki shoved the tabby at Thor as unceremoniously as he'd given him Mittens, and scooped his pet out of Maria's hands. "Oh, what did the bad man do to you, my love?" he asked as Mittens climbed up to walk across his shoulders. He made kissy motions, and Mittens happily bumped her head into his lips.

Nick wanted to be sick.

Thor was juggling his armful of cat awkwardly. The cat itself was quite happy, purring already, and Thor arranged it like a baby on one shoulder. "Loki, I..."

"She's yours now, Thor! Don't worry, she'll make it all better. What will you call her, do you think?"

"Call her?"

"She was answering to Ginger when I took her in, but _Ginger_ is so hard on the imagination, isn't it? I was thinking something like Tordis, or Mundgerda... Or maybe--"

"Tordis?" repeated Thor weakly.

"Well, she is to be yours, Thor."

"Loki, she is neither my daughter nor my wife."

"No, she's not!" said Loki brightly. "She's better! Have a daughter, what have you done? Just brought another lackwitted Aesir into the world, no offence, but with Ginger! You could bring a whole litter of... happiness to Asgard! By the way, you should take her home quite quickly. It won't do to let her get comfortable on Midgard -- take her to Asgard. Definitely some time within the next... two weeks, I think."

Nick exchanged a look with Maria, and revised his estimate of how fat Ginger-Tordis-Mungo-whatever was. He wasn't sure how many bundles of joy Thor could expect in his litter of happiness, but he had the urge to not find out. He shook it off. It wasn't okay to make important decisions with political ramifications on the basis that the Helicarrier was running critically low on kitty litter.

"Don't lie her on her stomach, Thor," Loki was fretting. He stepped up to rearrange the pregnant cat on his brother's shoulder, and Mittens and Ginger bumped noses like cats do. At least their pets liked each other. "You need a gentle touch. _Gentle tou--_ Thor, let go of the cat. Let go of her, you're terrible."

"No, she's mine." Thor turned his back stubbornly. "I will call her Embla, and she will be a hunting beast." He rearranged her so that she was lying on her side in the cradle of his arms and she purred in response. "I do think she needs to lose some weight, though."

"Er." Loki looked shifty. "All right. Here's some food for her." Nick involuntarily glanced behind him. Yep. That was Ozzie's' welcome bag. The medicine and the toys had been emptied out in a small pile. "If she's on a diet, this should last her about a week, perhaps a week and a half."

If she was eating for her babies too... Nick resisted the eyeroll.

"Now," Loki carried on. "Embla. You be good, my darling. Thor, get her home quick, and... if you want to talk to me again, maybe you could bring Sif along? She would benefit from a furry companion, I think. If you need any help with Embla, be sure and ask Frigga, she's the only sensible one there. And you--"

He swung around to kneel on the floor, with a practised motion that barely shook Mittens on his shoulder. Ozzie purred as Loki rubbed his belly. "And you, my brave boy. Be fearless. Don't tear up too many important documents. You two-legged people, if you need me you know how to find me." He stood. "Except you, Thor. You ask someone else."

Nick's eye widened and he lurched forward just too slow to catch Loki's arm as he winked into non-existence. Taking Mittens with him. Nick slammed a fist into his desk, and Ozzie jumped.

"He does not intend to return this time, does he?" asked Thor dully.

"Agent Hill, why is he talking to me?" Nick ground out through tight jaw. "Why is he talking to me, after you let him scare off our only link to the Chitauri?"

Maria blanched. "I'm sorry sir, I didn't--"

"It was no fault of Agent Hill," said Thor sorrowfully. "I thought if I could speak with Loki..."

The three of them eyed the spot in the middle of the room where Loki had vanished from. Nick sighed. "Just... Get back to containment Mr Odinson. Take your pregnant cat with you. I'll.. I'll talk to some people about the Tesseract."

Thor let Maria herd him out of the room, staring at Embla in his arms. Nick heard him mutter _Pregnant...?_ just as the door swept closed.

And Nick was left alone with his mangled mangy new pet. Ozymandias jumped up to sit on the edge of Nick's desk and smell bad. Nick glared at him. "Yeah? What are you looking at?"

Ozzie gave the feline equivalent of a shrug, and lifted one leg to lick himself.

Nick made a note to look up how long cats lived. Hopefully it wouldn't be too long. Then something caught his eye. Barton's report, where Loki had dropped it when Thor arrived, was looking too heavy to be one page long.

He flipped it open. Chitauri military numbers. Their distance from Earth. Specs for their ships. Specs for their favoured weapon, which Loki had nicknamed the _Space Whale_ \- No wait, it was an actual giant armoured whale. The creatures' biology was laid out like a grade school frog dissection. So were the Chitauri's, and they had behavioural studies too.

Nick hadn't seen Loki slip any of that in.

Ozzie, apparently as clean as he wanted to be climbed in to sit in the circle of Nick's arms like he was reading the reports. He gave a low meow that sounded distinctly smug.

"I don't know what you're so pleased about," Nick told him. "It was worth it - doesn't mean I don't hate your ass." But he gathered up the foul smelling thing in one arm as he ordered the papers to take them out for briefing.

He paused, flipping through. The majority of the Chitauri behavioural studies seemed to have been published by _Smudge, Whiskers et al_. He couldn't help it. He laughed.


	3. Stray

Thor had been invited to his new rooms at Stark Tower very shortly after the Avengers had been assembled. Thor had happily offered to join their cause in preparing for the arrival of his brother's army - it was the least he could do, and if her were joined in the fight against the Chitauri then he was all but guaranteed to cross Loki's path again. Midgard was only so big. And after the Avengers had been formed, Tony Stark's rivalry with Captain Rogers and his determination to outperform all had led him to provide them all with generous accommodations in his palace.

Thor stumbled out of the ascending room that brought him each time to his rooms and elected not to wrestle with the electric lights. It was late enough in the evening that the rooms were in darkness, but the lights were tricky and he knew the path to his bed chamber. Until... He tripped in the dark, over a small furry body that reached his ankles. He caught himself before his stumble bore him to the ground, and reached down to pick up the cat at his feet.

"...Embla?" he muttered. He had left his cat in Asgard, he could have sworn it was so. She had only recently birthed five children in an ordeal lasting four hours, and he had left her to rest and care for her young. How she could be tripping him in his Midgard home... He pulled her into the crook of his arm and groped for the light switch.

A strange grey-striped beast he had never seen before lay in his arms. As the light came on overhead it hissed at him and Thor dropped it in alarm.

It growled at him sourly and wandered off. Thor blinked. It wasn't the only uninvited guest in the room. Cats were dotted around on the floor, sleeping, lounging on his furniture. In the kitchen they wandered the countertops. Thor walked cautiously between them, placing his feet with care. Loki. Loki had filled his home with cats. Thor rolled his eyes. It was a wonder he hadn't seen it coming. There would likely be cat hair all over his bed, he thought, dancing an odd don't-step-on-them dance over to the door of his bedroom.

Where he found the bed occupied.

His lungs lost their capacity to hold breath as he beheld the sleeping figure. It was his brother. It was Loki himself, dressed in rude Midgardian garb, his hair falling in wisps from his braid and into his sleeping face. His brother lay on Thor's bed real and whole and alive. And still enough that Thor might believe he could keep him. He released his breath with an unbidden smile.

Something under Loki's shirt moved, tenting the thin cotton until Loki shifted his arm sleepily. Out of his sleeve poked a tiny ginger-white-brown furry head, and Thor noticed at last that Loki was sharing his bed with a brace of kittens. He couldn't help but laugh at the sight he made, and Loki stirred. "Hm?"

"Brother." Thor knelt at his bedside. Loki rolled onto his back and immediately focused his eyes on the little calico kitten whose acrobatic skills landed it on his chest. The little one butted its head against Loki's face and received a sleepy chuckle and a scratch under the chin for its trouble. The half dozen other furry bodies on the bed noticed he was awake, and began to climb him. Thor caught a little ginger as it tried to jump up onto Loki's stomach. He felt his brother, for all his affinity with the beasts, might not appreciate that.

The kitten gave an indignant mew as he gathered it against his chest, and Loki finally seemed to notice his presence. He made a mumbled noise. "Thor. It's you."

"Yes." Thor set the ginger on the pillow next to Loki's head and Loki exchanged nose-bumps with it. "You're in my bed, Brother."

"Oh yes." Loki glanced around the room until he spotted Mittens curled up on the chair by the bed. "I wasn't paying attention, and got evicted. Did you know you have to pay rent every single month in this realm?"

Thor made a mental note to ask somebody what it meant to pay rent. And why being evicted had put Loki and his herd in Thor's bed. "Every month?" he asked. "That seems extreme."

"It's unreasonable, is what it is." One of the kittens tried to climb up on Loki's head, and Loki swatted it away. "An old woman is sleeping in my bed now."

"And so you are sleeping in mine?"

Loki slid his arms behind his head, reclining in the comfort of Thor's pillows. "Yes." His litter gathered around him in little balls of fluff and a symphony of purring. Thor sat back on his ankles. It had been more than three years now since the night before his coronation, Loki lying on his bed and mocking him as Thor paced his chambers. In the dim light from the hall, in this new madness of his that was more warmth and calm than anything Loki had called sane, Thor might think that no time had passed at all. He knew distantly that there were things that should be said, explanations demanded, wrongs aired. But Loki curled one long hand around the tiny animal asleep on his chest and smiled with his eyes closed. Thor held his breath against the wave of sentiment.

"Did you entice the lady to adopt a cat, then, at least?"

"No," said Loki, eyes still closed. "She took my apartment. She gets no cat."

Thor laughed. And Loki cracked open one eye and laughed with him, and Thor's heart clenched. "Very well, then, Brother. I can sleep on the couch tonight." He reached over Loki's head for blankets.

"No, you can't sleep on the couch. The couch is taken."

Thor frowned. Had there been anyone else--? Glancing out through the door he spotted the sleeping cats all over the room. "Wha- Loki, your cats? Can they not sleep on the floor?"

"Why should they? They were there first."

"Loki, this is my home!"

"We're all very grateful for your hospitality." Loki sighed, and snapped his fingers. He held his arm out towards the bedside chair, waving his fingers and Mittens came suddenly awake. She gave a soft grumbling meow. "Come on, my love. Up here," murmured Loki. "Yes, I know, he's being so difficult. Come on, here with me." Mittens slunk across the floor and jumped up onto the bed. She grudgingly settled herself on Loki's stomach. "There. You can have Mittens' bed."

The chair by his bed hadn't been designed for sleeping. Thor wished he didn't feel so honoured to be offered Loki's familiar's bed.

Loki closed his eyes again and settled back. Before he could quite stop himself, Thor reached out one hand and scratched his strange mad brother behind the ear. Loki turned his head into the touch with a pleased hum. Rather than press his luck any further, Thor pulled the spare sheets down with a smile, and headed for his chair.


	4. Herding Cats

The truth about cats is something everyone jokes about. Mind readers. Teleporters. Visible only when they want to be. Nine lives at the very least. Everyone knows it. But, like most of the painfully obvious truths in the world, it's a rare person who believes it even as they say it. Cats are witchy beasts.

In a way, it made sense that the first person aboard the Helicarrier to see it was Coulson. The flow of information at SHIELD did tend to percolate around him. Cats are witchy. Cats that were gifts from a genuine sorcerer? Were witchier by far. Natasha's black tom Ruslan was well documented in his ability to walk through closed doors. And you could look under every chair, table and cabinet for Bruce's tiny white kitten to satisfy yourself you were alone - the moment you tried to eat food she would have been there all along, watching you hopefully. It was beyond the point of coincidence - whatever Loki was feeding his horde of strays before he sent them up, they were no longer normal cats.

Coulson had six.

They did lend themselves to the idea that pets grow to resemble their owners. Invisible, omnipresent, and quietly in charge. And with a respect for well-filled-out paperwork that you don't see in many cats.

Three cats without collars walked through the halls of Stark Tower. It wasn't an unusual sight, since the top floors had been generously donated to SHIELD operations. Meeting, and receiving a cat from, Loki was almost a rite of passage in certain areas of SHIELD nowadays. These particular cats walked in formation, though - two black and white, one Russian blue, with their tails up like flags. The Russian blue in the centre had a document pouch over her back, and that meant they were Coulson's.

The Russian blue was Tabitha. The other two might have been indistinguishable to most people, but one had a white left ear which meant he was Sebastian, and the other had black splotches across her nose which made her Sabrina. People gave them a wide berth as they went.

"All I'm saying is," Tony said, traipsing after Pepper while she power walked, "you and me, a dog... we'd be the undisputed rulers of this place. You know--" He watched a young agent walk past with her arms full of kittens, "--this new order of cat-ocracy."

Pepper smiled. "You can't take care of your multi-million dollar company, Tony. I'm not sure I trust you with a dog. Oh, hello--"

There was a meow from the vicinity of her ankles. Pepper looked down at Tabitha, who sat down on her haunches with an expectant look.

"Ohh," said Tony. "It's those guys. They freak me all the way out. The whole way." He stood behind Pepper as she crouched on her heels to scratch Tabitha's ears. Pepper was on a list of a very few people that were allowed to do that. Tabitha purred gently. "Are they all Coulson's? There's something not right about that. I thought he was a dog person."

"If you ever figure out how to train cats, Tony," said Pepper over her shoulder, "I'll think about getting a dog with you."

Tony grimaced. "Did you know they change their own litter box?" he asked. "How do they even do that?"

"Same way they learned how to use a can opener, I guess." Pepper was the most unflappable person Tony knew. He wondered how she got that way. "They've got a rota, and Phil's in it too. He says it's only fair."

Tabitha ducked her head out from under Pepper's fingers, and mewed at Tony. She managed to indicate the pouch on her back, and the paperwork inside.

"I don't like being handed things," said Tony.

Pepper rolled her eyes and retrieved the paperwork. She offered him a pen. He skimmed it like there was anything in the document that would stop him from signing it just to get rid of the messenger kitties. It was some kind of after after-action-report report. He loved SHIELD. Sign twice, initial, initial, and thrust it back at Pepper. When she offered it to Tabitha, the cat mewed again impatiently. Pepper scanned the paper.

"Oh, Tony you forgot to initial here," she said, pointing. Tony maintained incredulous eye contact with her as he initialled the offending spot. Pepper shrugged.

This time it was up to Tabitha's standards, and she let Pepper tuck it back into the pouch. She stood up with another little meow and Tony could practically hear Coulson saying _Thank you for your time_. The two black-and-whites behind her echoed it, _Yes, thank you,_ and they all carried on their way down the corridor.

"No one else's cats do that," Tony said as they went.

"I don't know whether to blame Phil or this Loki guy."

Tony laughed a little as the feline entourage rounded a corner. "They say pets start to look like their owners. Or is it owners starting to look like their cats?" Pepper grinned.

"I think there would have to be time travel involved for that. Phil's been unobtrusively bossy for years."

"Ahh!" Tony groaned loudly. "Time travel? Half a dozen creepy demon cats, time travelling and bringing people paperwork to do, why would you put that idea in my head? That's my perfect nightmare, Pepper, do you want me to suffer?" With a soft giggle, Pepper shrugged and walked away. Tony followed petulantly. 

"Is this still about the twelve per cent comment?" 

No answer. 

"Peppeerr!"

***

Ozymandias wasn't happy that his domain was being invaded by another cat. While Coulson acquainted himself with the contents of a manila folder, Fury watched Ozzie from the corner of his eye. Coulson's short haired black cat sat by the door of his office, as though at attention, and Ozzie prowled towards her, confused and hostile. The fur of his tail, what fur there was, bushed up and his back arched. He began a low growl.

The other cat was watching him mildly. She tilted her head at him with a faint mew. Ozzie hesitated and looked back at Nick, who offered no suggestions. He turned back to the feline invader and worked up a hiss--

And Coulson's cat swatted him in the face. No claws, but it stopped Ozzie short in a yowl. She sat back down, and Fury couldn't help thinking she looked smug.

"Hermione," Coulson said without looking up, "don't do that." He tapped the corner of Fury's desk with a finger. "Here, please." Hermione turned immediately and leapt, cat-footed, onto the top. Ozzie swiped at her as she passed, but slunk off into the shadows. Hermione sat primly where Coulson had indicated. All of Coulson's attention was still on the files.

Fury glowered at the cat delicately licking her claws on his desk. "Coulson, is your cat wearing a necktie?"

Coulson glanced up. "I didn't put that on her."

He went back to reading from the dossier. "She didn't put it on herself, Coulson."

"No, of course not. I think Sebastian did it for her."

"Sebastian...?" Fury couldn't put a face to the name. Coulson nodded.

"My third cat."

Fury studied his face in profile. If he was joking he was very good at hiding it. But Fury had known Phil Coulson for years. He knew how good he was at hiding. "Cats don't have opposable thumbs."

"I know. I haven't figured out how they do that."

Fury gave up. When Coulson left, Ozzie crept out from under the desk to mew at Hermione when she reached the door. She paused, long enough to bump noses with him, _No hard feelings_ , and then followed her owner out.

Ozzie looked back over his shoulder at Fury, and gave a pathetic meow. "No," said Fury firmly. "I refuse to deal with magic cats in love. Take that somewhere else."

***

When Coulson returned to his apartments at the end of the day he noticed the empty water bowl first. It was notable, but not alarming. The rota had Dmitri refilling the water dish this week, and he had been known to leave it to the late evening. So Coulson had shrugged halfway out of his jacket when he noticed the un-emptied litter tray. And that definitely was noteworthy. Nobody liked leaving the litter tray too long. There was a muted sound from the office, and Coulson straightened back into his jacket and hit the green panic button.

Green did nothing but to switch on the apartment's cameras and set sensors listening for code words. When Coulson edged his office door open to find Loki Of Asgard sitting in his desk chair, he thought the situation had probably merited the amber panic button at least. Loki glanced up at the sound of the door and caught him standing there. Well, too late now.

And as for his troupe of guard-cats... Coulson had been fully aware that guard-cats were a stupid idea, and he hadn't put much faith in them for that purpose, but he did think that falling all over the intruder purring and having their bellies rubbed was a little much. He cleared his throat and five out of six cats rolled to their feet sheepishly. Little Bianca, the youngest, merely shot him a look as if to say _...yes?_ and continued to have her ears scratched.

"Agent Coulson," greeted Loki.

"Loki," Coulson nodded. Somewhere in the ceiling, a computer picked up on that key word and pinged some analyst in a lab nearby. Coulson almost felt sorry for them. "What a surprise to see you."

"And it's a pleasure to see you too, Agent." Loki blithely ignored both the words and the sentiment of Coulson's greeting. "I was just passing by and thought, well, it's been such a long time since I've visited Coulson and all his fine lords and ladies... I do like to keep tabs, you know, and you so rarely seem to ask for any help..."

One of the worst things about his SHIELD training, Coulson had always thought, was the loss of ability to zone out when someone was talking bullshit to you. Just in case they said something useful too. While Loki talked, though, he noticed that the cat on his shoulder, while as white brown and orange as he remembered, was significantly smaller than last time.

"You haven't brought Mittens with you today?" he asked casually. Another key word pinged the lab, and Loki's eyes brightened.

"Funny you should ask!" he declared, scooping the calico kitten off his shoulder and depositing him on the desk. When he stood up next to Bianca, he was perhaps three-quarters her height at the shoulder. "This is Todd." Loki ushered the cat forwards, and he sat with his back ramrod straight to look at Coulson. "He wants to join your team."

"There... Isn't really an open spot on the Avengers, Loki."

Loki rolled his eyes. "Not that team, the good one."

Coulson had the sudden urge to switch the cameras off. Spare the labs from having to replay that in high definition, repeatedly, from every angle. He glanced at the row of cats that had lined up on the floor. His good team. 

Loki swept out of the chair to stand behind him, and Coulson casually reassured himself that he could reach his gun quicker than Loki could reach him before returning to the matter at hand. Todd was staring up at him hopefully. "So what do you say, Agent? Is there room in your heart for one more?"

Fifteen seconds of stunned silence was more than enough. "There's always more room in my heart," he deadpanned. "Room on my team is another matter." He could feel Loki's frown behind his head. He rested both hands on the edge of the desk. "You understand human speech?" he asked. Todd the kitten gave a little meow, and nodded his head. "And you understand what we do here?" Another nod.

Coulson straightened. "Hermione," he called, and the black shadow leapt up onto the desk. "Go bring me one of the WR04 forms, please. The C8 should work." Hermione bounced off to the filing system at the back of the room. Since switching to an open-topped system, Coulson's paperwork took up twice as much space, but it was unavoidable. Cat's couldn't open filing cabinets. "I suppose you know how to read?" he asked Todd.

"He reads better than many humans," said Loki curtly. "Mortal, just what are you trying to--"

Coulson received the WR04 form from Hermione as she appeared behind Todd. "Thank you." He laid it open for Todd to look at. "At the bottom here, it requests a second form that needs to be filed concurrently. The back of the room is all organised by the alphabet. You know the alphabet?" Todd nodded again. "Good. You think you can fetch the correct paperwork?" Todd's little eyes shone. Any second now, whatever spell made this okay was going to break and Coulson was going to realise he was asking a kitten to bring him paperwork. He steadfastly ignored that thought as Todd went racing off to find the WR04-H1 form suggested in the WR04-C8.

Loki's hand caught his arm sharply, and Coulson's dropped automatically to the butt of his gun. "What are you doing making him jump through hoops?" whispered Loki, quiet enough that there was a tiny chance maybe Todd couldn't hear them. Coulson turned to raise an eyebrow at him.

Loki glared. "His life's dream is to join you!" he hissed. "You'd turn him down?"

"His dream isn't to join up," Coulson said calmly. "It's to be judged good enough to join up. The whole thing becomes meaningless without standards." He looked up at the alien beside him. "You've never been part of an elite unit, have you?"

"I've commanded armies!" Loki said, provoked.

"Have you ever been a soldier?"

They both watched Todd pick over the piles of folders, searching. Out of the corner of his eye, Coulson saw Loki begin to fidget. He could see the one marked WR04-H1, as well as Coulson could. Coulson could feel Loki _willing_ Todd to find it.

He tiled his head as they waited, one contemplative and one fretful. "Would he be prepared to take a name with a few more syllables, do you think?" he asked. It wasn't a deal breaker, but it was worth asking.

Loki took a moment to answer. "He certainly wouldn't turn down a code name if you give him one."

"If you ask T. S. Eliot, all of these are code names."

"...Who is Tee Ess Eliot?"

Coulson sent Loki a sidelong glance. "Writer. You'd like him, I think."

Then Todd was back on the desk dragging a folder with him. WR04-H1. Success. Todd sat back, and looked to Coulson, vibrating like a violin string. (Tasteless choice of simile, Coulson thought to himself, but at least nobody present could read his thoughts. Probably.) He offered Todd a smile, careful to show exactly as much approval as he would have shown a human applicant, with ten per cent extra to account for differences in facial expressions.

He picked up the file, and ran a thumb over the indentation made by tiny kitten teeth as Todd carried it. "You're too small yet to carry an A4 document pouch," he mused aloud. Todd mewed. "How old is he?" he asked Loki.

"Eight months," Loki supplied.

"Cats aren't usually full grown until about twelve months, are they?"

"His mother was still growing until eighteen." Coulson set the WR04 form back on the desk. Dmitri jumped up next to Todd and nosed it open, coaxing Todd to join him in looking over the large print. Todd glanced up at Coulson, who lowered himself to a crouch at the edge of the desk.

"And your reading, I think, could use a little more practise, too." Todd's meow was a little bit quieter this time. "I think you know what I'm going to say, don't you?"

Todd's ears drooped, but his meow was unmistakeably one of agreement. Coulson petted his fur in consolation. "This isn't no," he said. "This is _wait until you're older._ Come back in four months, maybe, and try again."

Todd meowed again, a little stronger. Then he butted his head into Coulson's hand. Then he jumped over it in a display of kittenish acrobatics that even Coulson's most witchy cats would have been proud of and ran with sharp claws up Coulson's arm. Sitting on his shoulder, he brushed cheeks with Coulson and purred. Against his best judgement, Coulson laughed and scratched his head. He'd been refused entry to his own chosen unit three times before he'd passed muster. Sometimes he wondered if he'd be anywhere near where he was today if that hadn't happened.

Loki was looking at him with a strange soft look in his eyes. When he noticed Coulson was looking back he blinked and shook himself. He lifted a hand, straight arm, to Todd on Coulson's shoulder. "Come along then. Home. Your mother will have worn a hole in the carpet by now."

Todd gave a last bump of his head against Coulson's jaw, and traipsed happily down Loki's arm to curl around his neck. Loki seemed to notice he had his hand on Coulson's shoulder in a sociable gesture. He paused with it there a moment, awkward, then grinned widely and gave it a friendly squeeze. Then he, and Todd, vanished into thin air.

Coulson stood quietly for a few seconds, processing. Then he went and sat behind his desk. Bianca crept over and unsubtly nosed her head underneath his hand until he stroked her. He laughed softly. "Odd day, huh?" he asked her. "Could someone bring me--?"

Sebastian landed near silently on the desk next to them, and dropped a manila folder. Coulson opened it. "--an incident report. Thanks." Sabrina was at his other elbow, offering him a pen. The six of them settled down for the evening around him as Coulson settled into his paperwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic being the cracky crack it is, I honestly have no idea where the story goes from here. Seriously, chapters 2 through 4 were all written in response to comments over at Norsekink. Next chapter? Probably all about Loki trying to colonize Asgard with cats. I don't even know.
> 
> Suffice it to say, this fic is (probably) not done with my brain yet.


	5. I, Feline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (As requested by [Inanna](http://archiveofourown.org/comments/1374170))

"Jarvis." Tony tried to sound calm and patient. It came out more stricken than anything else. "Jarvis. How did this happen?"

JARVIS had the decency to sound embarrassed. "I'm afraid that the gentleman was rather... persuasive, Sir," he said. "Quite wore down all my objections."

"You did try telling him that Dummy and Butterfingers never leave the lab, right?"

"I tried, Sir, but he pointed out that I myself have a constant internet connection, and that groceries can easily be delivered straight to the door." Tony groaned. "Cats don't need to be walked like dogs do, Sir."

On top of one of the work benches, a cat lay on its back, lazily swatting at Dummy's new attachment. Tony was almost a hundred per cent sure that he hadn't put the 'feather-on-a-string' attachment there himself. Dummy was apparently having the time of its life. Possibly enjoying itself more than the cat.

Butterfingers had laid fourteen cans of cat food out on a bench, and then a line of pill boxes. It was in the process of labelling them all. Not just the _de-worming_ and _antibacterial pills_ labels, but the food was labelled as breakfast foods, entrees and world cuisine. As if cats cared. Didn't cats mostly eat fish skeletons out of the garbage? If they didn't, then cartoons had been lying to Tony for years.

"Couldn't you have at least gotten one of the good ones?"

The cat was black. Partially. There was still... some fur attached. In some places. The rest of it was a kind of scabby grey.

"I did make a cursory attempt," offered JARVIS. "But as I said, he was persuasive."

"If I touch that thing, will it have any fur by the end of it?" The counter was already covered in moulting.

"I shouldn't think so, Sir, no." There was a pause while the cat lost interest in the feather in favour of licking its private parts, and Dummy kept on waving the string joyfully. "Shall I call Ms Potts, Sir?"

Tony glared up at the nearest ceiling camera. Past experience was no reason to insinuate that he couldn't take care of a little thing like _sudden unexpected cat_ without running to Pepper. He could. He built robots for a hobby. Cats couldn't be any more difficult. "No, Jarvis," he said, a little snippily, "I think I can manage."

Five minutes later, and several smashed bottles, both of experimental jet fuel and expensive scotch, and Tony was thinking about changing his mind. "Get out here, you little asshole!" he called, as he groped out of sight under a cabinet. There was a hissing noise, and Tony jerked his hand back before it could be followed by claws. "Jarvis! Does _el gato diablo_ have a name?"

"Loki offered to allow us to name him, Sir." JARVIS and the syndicate of semi-intelligent bots. Oh, this would be good. "After much discussion, it was unanimously decided that his name would be--" JARVIS' voice cut out, and an electronic sound came over the speakers. It reminded Tony of the days of dial-up internet connection.

"What was that?" Tony frowned.

JARVIS repeated the noise, "--Sir."

"Wow." Tony resisted the urge to roll his eyes forever. "How do you pronounce that, like--" he made dolphin noises at the back of his throat.

"Not quite, it's more of a --" dial-up noises. JARVIS had an unbreakable deadpan. A little furry head poked out from under the bench, enticed out by the repetition of its name. Tony blinked at it incredulously for a second or two before it mewed up at him and he remembered he was trying to get it away from the sensitive equipment. He lunged for the cat, just a nanosecond after it suddenly learned to break the sound barrier and streaked off in the opposite direction. "Get back here, you fuzzy psychopath! Stop breaking things!"

"Shall I call Ms Potts now, Sir?"

The fuzzball somehow fitted itself into the innards of one of Tony's synthesisers, the big foreboding machines in the back of the lab. It peered out from behind some intake pipes with green eyes that shone in the shadow and Tony could only call that look _smug_. He didn't like it. "No."

He held the cat's gaze as he backed out of the room. "Keep it there, Jarvis. Don't let it get away."

"As you say, Sir," was JARVIS' patient reply.

The furry little asshole was out of the synthesiser when Tony got back, and wandering up and down on top of the autoclave. Just perfectly out of Tony's reach, like it was laughing at him. Tony kept a straight face, and both hands behind his back as he approached with care. The cat tilted its head as if to say _what are you planning, human?_ Tony grinned. "You gonna come down?" he asked, "Buddy? Last chance..."

The cat meowed at him disdainfully, and turned to walk away. Then yowled like a demon when a stream of seltzer hit it right under the tail and almost lifted it off its feet. Tony laughed, brandishing the bottle. "Y'want some more? Ha!" He squirted the thing again. "Get down!"

Again the sound barrier suffered as a little black streak of lightning dashed straight past Tony's ankles. Making for the door of the lab, out into the tower to get lost forever, and possibly bring the wrath of Loki down on--

Butterfingers' arm made a little whirring noise as it released its burden. For once, right on target. A blanket dropped down on top of the speedy little cat, and its weighted edges stopped it in its tracks. A lump under the blanket squirmed, then stilled with a pathetic sound. Victory.

Tony set the seltzer bottle aside and scooped up the blanket, cat and all, into his arms. He held it upside down to head off any further breaks for freedom, and turned back the edges like a baby in swaddling clothes. A wet, furry, stinky baby. It looked up at him with big eyes and let out a piteous mew.

"There, there," said JARVIS from up above. "It'll be all right," dial-up noises.

_Dial-up noises_ meowed again desolately, and Tony rolled his eyes. "I think I'm gonna call you Loki. I can pronounce that, and it kinda suits."

With a whirr, Dummy appeared over Tony's shoulder, with its feather on a string. One of Loki's paws snaked out of the blanket and tapped Tony in the arc reactor. Trapping the feather against Tony's shirt. Loki's eyes shone and he made a little satisfied meow. Tony couldn't quite help but smile.

Five minutes later, the devil cat had two sets of claws in Tony's arm, and he changed his mind. JARVIS called Pepper.


End file.
